by Karen Kelley
“Dar and I go way back. We were practically raised together from the cradle. We probably know each other better than anyone. And how long have you known her?”
Darcy stiffened beside him.
Surlock was not intimidated. “Not long, but I’m sure we’ll make our own memories. In fact, we already have.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter fisted his hands.
Darcy laughed. “Peter, you’re acting like an overprotective big brother.”
Peter visibly forced himself to relax. “You’re right, of course.”
“Annette, tell us about yourself,” Darcy said, changing the subject.
Annette preened. “I own a hair salon. I’m up to three chairs and a manicurist. If the place keeps growing, I’ll have to rent a bigger shop.”
Her voice was sharp and high-pitched. For a moment, Surlock thought the horrible humming was back, but then she cleared her throat and continued in a softer voice.
“I’m doing very well,” she went on, fidgeting with her hands, smoothing the material of her slacks.
“It sounds like it,” Darcy said.
“Oh, I am. I couldn’t afford to catch the eye of one of the sexiest bachelors in the county if I wasn’t. I spent one hundred and fifty dollars on this pantsuit.”
“It’s very glittery,” Darcy said.
“A girl has to have her bling-bling.” She looked at the others, then slunk down a little farther in the seat.
“We’re here,” Peter called out, looking vastly relieved that Annette would have to stop chattering.
The driver pulled to the curb. Annette started to reach for the door handle, but Peter stopped her.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot,” she said. “I’m not very sophisticated.”
Peter’s face changed colors almost as fast as the tiny lights on the interior roof of the limo.
Surlock wondered why Peter had brought the young woman. They didn’t seem to suit each other very well. Peter acted embarrassed by her.
The driver opened the door and they slid across the seat. Surlock preferred Darcy’s car. It was much easier to get out of. He was grateful to stand on the walkway and stretch his legs.
“Welcome to the Lavender Club,” a man in a dark uniform said, then opened the door.
Peter led the way inside.
“Oh, wow, talk about fancy-shmancy!” Annette breathed.
“Could you please lower your voice,” Peter said between gritted teeth. “And try not to let it show you’re a country bumpkin.”
“I’m sorry.” Annette looked at Surlock, then Darcy, biting her bottom lip. Her hands began to tremble and tears filled her eyes.
Peter sighed deeply. “No, I’m sorry. I’m a little on edge. Problems at the office.”
Darcy glared at Peter, then took Annette’s arm in hers. “It is pretty fancy-shmancy, isn’t it?” Darcy said, staring at the lavender carpet, then the chandeliers. “You know, Annette, I need to make an appointment to get a trim. You’re the expert, what do you think?”
Annette brightened. “Maybe just a little off the ends. You must have a great hairdresser, though. The style suits you.”
“But I don’t have one in Summerville. Well, until now, if you can squeeze in another client.”
“Certainly. It would be an honor.”
“Great, I’ll call this week and make an appointment.”
“If you two are through chatting, our table is ready,” Peter told them.
“Don’t get your briefs in a wad, Peter,” Darcy said in a soft, silky voice before she breezed past him.
Surlock was grinning when he caught up to her. “You handled that very well.”
“I loathe Peter when he gets like this.” She made a face.
“Why did you ever date him?”
She shrugged. “He isn’t always a snob. I think he’s only angry that you’re a part of my life. He’s always been very protective of me.”
Surlock picked up on one phrase. “Am I a part of your life?” He pulled her chair out and she sat. “Am I?” he asked again when she didn’t answer.
“Well, yes.” She fiddled with her lavender napkin, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Good,” he said. “Because I think you’re a part of mine, too.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Peter asked as he pulled Annette’s chair out for her. After she was seated, Peter went to his, gripping the back until his knuckles turned white, then pulling it out very easily, as if nothing brewed inside him.
“Now, Peter, a girl isn’t supposed to tell all her secrets,” Darcy told him.
“So what do you do?” Annette asked Darcy.
“I’m a private investigator,” she said, sitting a little taller.
Peter snorted, then brought his napkin up to his mouth. “Sorry, darling,” he told Darcy, then turned to Annette. “She has the title, but she’s never walked the walk.”
“Actually, I’ve hired her to discover some vital information that I need. I’ve been quite pleased with the job she’s done so far,” Surlock informed him.
Peter’s eyebrows rose. “Does your mother know?”
Darcy frowned. “I don’t need my mother’s permission. I’m over eighteen.”
“Then she doesn’t.”
“No, and you’re not going to tell her. I’ll do that myself, thank you very much.”
“Now don’t get in a tizzy. Of course, I wouldn’t dare bring it up to Mary.” He smirked. “Do you think I’m crazy? Why, she’d have my head for not stopping you.”
“I’d love it if I didn’t have to work,” Annette said with a sigh.
“No, you wouldn’t,” Darcy said. “It makes me feel incomplete.”
“There’s always charity work, Dar,” Peter told her. “No need to get your hands dirty—unless it’s when you’re counting all your daddy’s money.”
Surlock watched and saw the anger beginning to rise inside Darcy. If a man hadn’t come by and asked if they would like something to drink, he had a feeling Darcy might have leapt across the table and strangled Peter. That would make the evening a lot more interesting.
“And for you, sir?” the waiter asked him.
He had no idea what to order. Or maybe he did. “Orange juice.”
Peter snorted again. “What, are you in training?”
“I order what I like. Isn’t that what you did?”
Peter frowned, but didn’t say anything.
By the time their meal arrived, Darcy was ready to call it a night. Peter was being particularly obnoxious, and Surlock was making sure Peter knew which man she belonged to. She felt as though she was being pulled in both directions.
And then there was poor Annette, who was way out of her league, even though Darcy was trying to make her feel more comfortable. The only thing good about their evening was the food.
The band was assembling just as they finished their meal. Darcy used to refer to their offerings as elevator music. Her parents often brought her to this club when they were staying at their country estate. Her mother called the music soothing. Darcy supposed it was, but sometimes she longed for more.
Jennifer, her best friend, knew how to party. She went to all the in clubs. Darcy had been a few times, but she’d always had it drilled into her head how she was supposed to conduct herself. And so she had.
All that was about to change. As soon as she got up the nerve to tell her mother that she was going to get a real job. This time she would do it, too. No matter how many tears her mother shed. She cringed at the thought of her mother getting upset again and all because Darcy wanted to go to work. They would both have to be strong.
“Darcy, would you like to?” Peter asked, breaking into her thoughts.
She blinked, forgetting for a moment where she was. “Would I like to what?”
He stood and came around to her chair. “Dance with me. I’m sure Surlock wouldn’t mind.” He smiled and held out his hand.
Darcy didn’t have much of a choice. It would
be impolite not to accept his invitation. She and Peter had been friends for a long time. So maybe he was acting a bit of an ass tonight, but he had always been very protective of her. He’d also saved her butt a few times, if she remembered correctly. He’d never told her mother that Darcy was the one who broke that window when she was twelve, and he was fourteen. Peter could have said something, but he hadn’t.
So she stood and took his hand. She couldn’t help comparing it to Surlock’s. His grip was strong and firm. Peter’s was, well, a little on the soft side.
Once they were on the dance floor, he pulled her tight against him. She wiggled away until there was some distance between them. He laughed.
“What? Do you think Surlock will get jealous?”
“Why are you trying to start a fight with him?” She leaned back until she could look into his face.
He sighed deeply. “I care about you. I always have.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Okay, so tell me about this guy.” He nodded his head toward Surlock. “How much do you know about him?”
“Enough,” she hedged.
“That’s what I thought. You barely know the guy.”
“That’s not true. Can we talk about something else?”
“Fair enough. How about this? I love you and I always have. I’ve wanted you to be my wife since the night of the prom, but you always wanted to do something else with your life. I’ve been waiting patiently for you to see what’s been right in front of your face. Now it seems I need to rock the boat before you run off with this Surlock guy.”
“Oh, Peter.” She felt awful. “I never guessed.” But she should have. All those years of the laughing and playing together. He’d been her first kiss. Nothing more than that, but he had been the first guy she’d ever petted with. She had to admit that he was a pretty good kisser.
“Then say yes. Tell me that you’ll marry me and make me the happiest man on earth. We have everything in common. The same backgrounds. And your parents would be thrilled if we married.” He raised her chin with one finger. “You’ve always wanted to make your parents proud. This would do it.”
The music stopped and he pulled her toward the table before she had a chance to say anything. He was beaming when they stopped beside it.
“Champagne!” He snapped his fingers toward the waiter. “We have reason to celebrate. I’ve just asked the love of my life if she will marry me.”
“Peter!”
He hugged her close. “It’s okay, sweetheart. They’re both thrilled for us.”
She met Surlock’s fiery eyes. Thrilled was not the word she would have used to describe him. And poor Annette looked as if her heart were breaking in two.
How the hell did she get herself in these predicaments?
CHAPTER 10
Darcy looked at Surlock, hoping he didn’t think she had said yes. His expression told her nothing, though. He slowly got to his feet. Oh, God, please no fight.
“You left out one small detail, Peter,” Darcy said.
“What’s that, Dar?” Peter turned away from Surlock’s steady gaze. His words didn’t sound as strong and confident as they had a moment ago.
“I didn’t say yes.”
“I just assumed you would.” His expression was genuinely puzzled. “It’s what our families would want.”
“But it’s not what I want. And I really doubt it’s what you want.” She tried to be as gentle as she could. She might do a lot for her parents, but marrying a man she didn’t love was not one of them. She really didn’t think they would ask that of her.
“Darcyyy,” Peter whined.
How embarrassing. And Surlock was glowering. At least she didn’t have to wonder what he was thinking anymore.
She looked at Annette, who was starting to look more than a little pissed off. Not that Darcy blamed her. Annette’s date had just asked another woman to marry him.
“I have an early day tomorrow. Since this date is a bust, I’m ready to leave.” Annette rose to her feet, dropping her napkin on the table.
“Good idea.” Darcy followed suit. “I think in light of the circumstances, Surlock and I will take a taxi home.”
“Darcyyy.” Peter was starting to look like a whipped pup. Old times reared up in front of her. He had always been like a brother to her. She could feel her resolve weakening.
“You have a problem with that, Peter?” Surlock stepped closer to Darcy, slipping his arm around her shoulders. “If I were you, I wouldn’t push my luck. Darcy’s with me, not you.”
Darcy glanced up and watched as a feral gleam entered Surlock’s eyes. His lip curled slightly. Her mouth dropped open as she stared. Then his expression changed, softening, almost as quickly as it had hardened. For a moment, Darcy could’ve sworn she had been looking into the eyes of the wolf.
Yeah, right. She mentally shook her head and glanced up at the twinkly crystals on the chandelier. A reflection from them must have gleamed in his eyes. Nothing more.
Well, duh, of course, that’s all it had been. What, did she imagine Surlock was part wolf? Now that was ludicrous. She stifled a laugh. Maybe he was a werewolf.
They weaved their way through the crowd, stepping outside into the warm night air. Thousands of stars were scattered across the sky.
“We need a taxi,” she told the doorman just as Annette and Peter stepped from the restaurant.
“No, Darcy. I promise I’ll be good. Just ride back with us. I apologize to you all for what I did. I’ve ruined your evening and it wasn’t my intention.”
Darcy looked at Surlock. He finally sighed, then nodded.
“We’ve changed our minds,” Darcy told the doorman. “We’ll go back in the limo.”
“As you wish,” he said with a slight bow as the limo pulled to the curb.
They got in, no one saying a word as they drove away. They stopped first at Annette’s modest little house.
Annette pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to Darcy. “Call anytime for your appointment. That is, if you’re still interested.”
She took the card, lightly squeezing Annette’s hand. “I am, and I will.”
“Well, it’s been—interesting.” She glared at Peter. “Keep your seat. I can make it to my own front door,” she told him, but smiled at everyone else, then turned and walked to her door. They waited for her to unlock it and go inside before they drove away.
“You don’t have to keep staring at me like that,” Peter told Surlock, finally breaking the silence when they were nearly home. “It’s not like she said yes.”
Darcy squeezed Surlock’s hand. He broke his demonic glare at Peter and smiled down at her. She breathed a sigh of relief when they pulled up to the gate. It slowly swung open and the limo drove inside the compound.
A few moments later, the car came to a stop and the driver opened the back door. She slid out of the car, glad the evening was finally over.
“I’ll join you in a few minutes,” Surlock said and shut the door.
There was a distinctive click as the door locked. Then a high-pitched scream came from Peter. Oh, no, this wasn’t good. She tapped on the window.
“Surlock?”
Nothing.
She hit the glass with her fist.
“Surlock!”
“Should I call 9-1-1?” The driver asked.
He was starting to look as worried as she felt. Before she could tell him that that might not be a bad idea, the door opened, and Surlock stepped out, straightening his jacket and tie.
“Is Peter okay? You didn’t kill him, did you?”
She glanced in the backseat. Peter was curled into a ball, tears running down his face, and he whimpered.
She slammed the door closed and glared at Surlock. “What the hell did you do to him?”
“I merely told him that you were already taken and that he shouldn’t bother you again.”
Her eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t all you did.” She watched as the limo pulled away.
“No, but I didn’t touch him if that’s what you’re afraid of. I only spoke to him.”
She shook her head. “I saw him. Peter was terrified. He’ll probably need therapy.”
“He’ll be fine in a day or two.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, well, almost certain.” He reached for her, but she sidestepped him.
“I think there’s been a little too much testosterone flowing tonight. I’m tired of being pulled in different directions by men who want to take care of me. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go up to my room.”
She started past him, but he pulled her into his arms and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss stole her breath away and sent heat spiraling to every part of her body. Before she could wrap her arms around his neck and pull him closer, he stepped away, running the back of his fingers over her cheek.
“I hope your dreams are pleasant.” He walked around the side of the house and disappeared.
Darcy wanted to call him back. Her body was on fire, the ache to have him make love to her almost unbearable.
No! She needed to make him pay for treating her as if she couldn’t take care of herself. She would not be spending the night with him tonight. That would teach him a lesson.
“Yeah, right,” she mumbled before flouncing into the house.
Running through the woods, breathing hard. Overhead branches. Something near.
Chasing.
No, just running together.
A wolf. More than one.
Fear, trembling.
No, there was no fear. This was right. As it should be.
“Who am I?” Darcy asked.
“One of us. Symtarian.”
Darcy sat up with a start. There was humming in her ears, and sweat drenched her nightgown. What had happened? She held her head as tears streamed down her face, her body trembling. She was losing her mind.
The French doors opened. She gasped, head jerking around. Surlock stood in the doorway. The light from the moon bathed his naked body.
“I had a nightmare,” she whispered.
He hurried to her, enfolding her in his arms. She laid her head against his chest and listened to the comforting beat of his heart.
“It was only a dream,” he whispered close to her ear.